


The Nutcracker

by Billxbesitztxmeinxherz



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballet, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billxbesitztxmeinxherz/pseuds/Billxbesitztxmeinxherz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <br/><p>Christmas is not the most wonderful time of the year for the scrooge named Bill Kaulitz. Having been recently transferred from the American Ballet to the Manhattan Ballet, Bill can’t seem to smile about anything this holiday season and things only seem to get worse when he’s moved from being a soloist to back in the Snow Corps de Ballet for the company’s production of The Nutcracker. However, there just may be some Christmas magic behind the tale as Bill finds himself transported to a magical world with some rather familiar faces.</p>
<p>Can this prima Donna ballerina’s Christmas be saved? Especially when that hunky Premier danseur noble Tom Trumper keeps dropping Bill on his landings?</p>
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  <p> </p>
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<div class="center">
  <p>    <i>A Christmas Story</i><br/></p>
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            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> [ ](http://photobucket.com)  
> 

The sights around Bill are familiar and yet the young man cannot seem to relax. At age eighteen, Bill Kaulitz is far too thin for someone his age, his body resembling more that of a prepubescent boy rather than that of a young man. Still there lies hidden strength within this frail body. 

 

With his spindly limbs and strong legs, Bill has superior control over his body so that everything on stage looks perfect and more importantly effortless. That had been Bill’s great advantages to rising Premier danseur in the American Ballet. The dark-haired, ivory-skinned, androgynous beauty had moved with such ease when performing. Unlike others that had been Bill’s company, the audience could not tell just how hard Bill was working, just how much his muscles ached, just how much he was sweating beneath those blinding lights as he seemed to float about the stage. 

 

But all of that was no more.

 

Bill walked lightly across the scuffed wood floors of the studio. Clad in threadbare tights, an old leotard, and torn leg warmers the younger dancers could not seem to tear their eyes from Bill. Now _this_ was an experienced dancer, anyone could tell just from how Bill carried himself. 

 

Bill could not suppress his smug grin as he picked out a spot along the barre that was fairly secluded from the others and began to stretch. Bill worked out the knots in his back first before taking to rolling out his calves on tennis balls. It feels like it’s been forever since Bill has had a chance to dance when in reality it’s only been two days. The young man can feel everyone’s eyes on him, he can hear the soft whisperings of the company trying to figure out who he was, and he can mostly certainly hear a few girls scoff and call him a diva. Bill doesn’t care, the simply swoops down in a graceful arch and stretches the soreness out of his hip flexors. 

 

“He’s too thin to be a lifter.” One girl hissed and Bill’s back tensed, all too familiar with the cattiness of the female dancers.

 

“What is Jost thinking by inviting him to join us?” Another added in.

 

“He looks like he’d snap in two if he tried to lift anyone.” A third girl giggled and Bill’s nostrils flared. 

 

Always being for confrontation versus rolling over, Bill snatched up his Pointe shoes from his bag and stalked over towards the girls. They were typical crops girls, the useless no bodies that weren’t good enough to land a soloist role and were forced to dance in unison, in the background. They were pretty objects that provided a backdrop, furniture if you will, and it was their job to draw attention to the principle dancers, the true ballerinas. Bill was so above this, this entire charade of being kicked out because of _that_ man. This was not where Bill belonged, surrounded by a bunch of sub par ballerinas in the Manhattan ballet. Bill had been one of the lead dancers in the American; a much vied after position that Bill had rubbed in his friends’ faces when he’d started at age sixteen. It was something that was unheard of and broke Paloma Herrera’s record of when she started with the American at age nineteen. Bill had never been more proud. 

 

Bill’s place was at home, with the American Ballet, and he could only look at his new company in distain. 

 

All three girls were short and lean, their all similarly colored hair tied up tight in a bun, with narrowed faces and judgmental eyes. The three broke apart with a start when they saw Bill stalking over to them and froze up when the young man stopped dead before them. Bill continued to glare at these three girls as he dropped his shoes in front of him and laced up. The three were looking amongst themselves now, watching Bill unsure, when the boy sprung up to his feet.

 

“You’re in my way.” Bill shifted his weight to one hip and raised an eyebrow in question. 

 

“S-sorry?” One of the girl’s brows creased in confusion. Bill sighed and roughly shoved his way through them, ignoring their startled squawks, as he stepped into the rosin powder and began to coat the underside of his shoes.

 

“Rosin.” Bill shrugged when they three turned to Bill in fury, “You were blocking the rosin box.”

 

“Hey, now just who do you think you-” One of the three began when the doors of the studio were thrown open. A short man, with even shorter brown hair, strolled into the studio and clapped his hands loudly. Immediately everyone ceased their stretching and said in clear unison, “Gooding morning David.”

 

“Good morning.” David replied, peeling his coat off before he went to stand front and center at the western wall. “It’s nine o’clock people. If you plan on eating lunch today, I suggest you take your places so we can start now.”

 

Everyone scurried into place and Bill managed to secure his spot by the window, at the opposite end of the three girls that were still muttering about Bill. 

 

“Silence!” David shouted with his heavy Russian-accented voice, “Be quiet and warm up! Warm up your bodies not your mouths, girls!”

 

The warm up began in a series of deep knee bends, the only noises in the room now was the loud popping and cracking of people’s hips and knees during the pliés. Bill grimaced when his left knee cracked especially loud and the boy next to him smiled softly at Bill. At the front of the room David Jost continued to shout at the company, demanding that certain people dip lower, that others straighten their legs further, or that someone needed to suck their stomach in more. Bill, while unhappy with his new company, obeys David without question. The man is a former principal dancer from The Mikhailovsky Ballet in Russia and the amount of respect Bill holds for this man, outweighs the boy’s bad mood. 

 

After almost forty-five minutes of warm up, the main doors to the studio slam open once more and the entire class stops. A young man, in his early twenties or so, saunters into the room at a towering 5’9 and drops his bag to the floor. The man is dressed in a skintight mess tank top with baggy shorts that fall just past his knees. David merely raised a hand in greeting rather than chastising the boy for being late.

 

“I’m already warmed up.” He rolled his neck around; black cornrows catching Bill’s eye. The style is a bit different but Bill can see how effective cornrows can be effective, the pattern keeps every hair tucked tightly in place, which is a far cry from Bill’s norm. The eighteen year old normally keeps his long black hair tied up tight in a high ponytail, hair spray and pins keeping the flyaways in place. 

 

“Good. We were just about to start combinations.” David nodded before leaning in to whisper into the young man’s ear. The man’s eyes scanned the company, jumping from face to face before landing on Bill.

 

“Bill!” David called and suddenly all the girls, a few guys, are glaring down Bill as he walked to the front of the room.

 

“Yes?” Bill said politely, shoulders tensing as the young man with the cornrows blatantly checked out Bill’s profile. 

 

“Bill, this is Tom Trumper. He’s Premier danseur noble at this company.” David gestured to the cornrowed man and Bill smiled weakly.

 

“Tom, this is Bill Kaulitz. He was Premier danseur at the American and has come to join us.” Tom’s face pulled in intrigue as he looked to Bill again, eyes taking in every aspect of Bill’s thin body.

 

“You danced with the American and now you’re here?” Tom tried to keep his tone nonchalant but Bill heard the true disbelief in it.

 

“I didn’t want to dance with such a big company anymore.” Bill spat, both defending himself and throwing insult to his new ballet. Tom didn’t seem to take too fondly too that as his body language immediately became defensive towards Bill while poor David could only watch the train wreck unfold.

 

“Now Tom.” David said, his accent heavy as he smacked Tom upside the head. “Bill has come here to our Coryphée. You should be honored that you’re going to be working with someone of such great skill and talent.”

 

“Wait, what?” Bill hissed, turning his back to the rest of the people it the studio. “David this wasn’t our agreement. I agreed to come here on the condition that I’d be a soloist and Premier danseur.”

 

“Yes, well Bill-” David began when Tom cut him off.

 

“Well aren’t you a little prima ballerina? You’re first day here and you’re already demanding a leading role?” Tom smirked.

 

“Bill you are new to our company and we, here at Manhattan, firmly believe in working your way through the ranks. Now I know that you have a lot of experience-” David tried again when Bill interrupted him.

 

“I’ve danced with the American Ballet for the past two years! I far outrank this man here and you expect me to play second fiddle to him!” Bill said in a forced whisper, shooting a death glare at Tom.

 

“Outrank me? You were only a Premier danseur! I’ve been Premier danseur noble for the past four years. I think my skill and experience far outranks yours.” Tom scoffed and the entire company began to whisper in excitement.

 

Bill’s face burned in embarrassment. It was one thing for him to have to be demoted from Premier danseur to Coryphée, but for this fool to openly mock Bill in front of the entire company. Bill wasn’t going to stand for it.

 

“I have been dancing with the American Ballet since I was sixteen! I am, to date, the youngest person to ever land a principal role in the ABT! So don’t you dare try and act like my superior!”

 

“I am merely stating the truth. Don’t be such a child about it.” Tom snapped and Bill scowled, about to throw something back, when David intervened.

 

“Enough you two! Five minutes within meeting each other and you’re already ready to rip the other’s throat out!” David shouted and the room grew silent. 

 

“But David-”

 

“Enough Bill! I think you have done quite enough for today! I cannot believe that the ABT allowed such behavior from one of its most respected stars. Bill, as of this moment you are no longer Coryphée but in the snowflake corps.” 

 

“What?” Bill shrieked and Tom snorted, ducking his head.

“Enough! I don’t want to hear another word from you! It’s time you learned that there is so much more to ballet than how many solos you have in a show. Now go line up with the others and we’re going to start with a petit allégro.” David held up his hands in silence and Bill slinked to the back of the room, muttering under his breath.

 

The rest of the company looked to David with wide eyes and the man shouted at them to get going. The next hour was like something out of a nightmare for Bill. Being used to having a plethora of room at center stage, Bill continuously knocked elbows with the fellow dancers in the corps. It was tight and it was packed. The group sprung and leapt through the air as one, something Bill found difficult as he was not given as much room to land.

 

Again and again David shouted at them but Bill’s respect for the man had now turned to irritation. At the front of the company, with the principal dancers, Tom exploded through the air underneath the fluorescent lights of the studio. Tom was strong, definitely the ideal lifting partner, as most of his bulk muscle was in his thighs. Bill was strong enough to life partners as well, but it looked rather odd considering his girlish frame.

 

“Again!” David shouted when everyone finished the combination.

 

“Ugh.” Bill scowled, eyes seeking the clock that hung above the doorway.

 

Bill’s heart beat rapidly in his chest, his pupils were dilated, and his legs burned as he leapt over and over again. The corps completed a series of pirouettes and blancés all in perfect harmony, though it took some difficulty on Bill’s part. Then they were gliding across the floor in grand allégros and Bill felt as if he were about to faint.

 

“Now,” David called, thrilled with how the exercise was coming along so far, “Tom! Tom you catch Bill!”

 

“What?” Bill wheezed, looking to Tom. Tom looked equally as winded and un-thrilled about it but nonetheless got into position. 

 

“Now, Bill!” David cried. “With the grace of a swan! Now! Now!”

 

Bill sucked in a deep breath before he was advancing towards Tom, arms outstretched and legs perfectly pointed so that there was not a single disruption in that smooth line from hip to toe. As Bill drew closer, he felt as if he were flying. Suddenly the linoleum-layered floor was air beneath Bill’s feet as the boy seemed to be suspended endlessly in the air. Bill could hear the impressed gasps from his new company and he smiled smugly, preparing himself for that one final great leap.

 

Then Bill was airborne, body moving gracefully as Tom’s strong hands encased around Bill’s small waist. Tom caught Bill with much ease and then lifted the boy high over his head. Bill hung there for a minute, eyes closed, chest heaving, as it was suddenly his partner Georg from the ABT that was lifting him. Bill was transported back to that familiar large stage with the blinding lights and the cheers of praise for him. 

 

Bill can feel it. The feeling of the stage makeup caked onto his face, the roars of approval from both the audience and side stage, to the feeling of silvery satin against Bill’s skin. Then an uninvited image enters Bill’s mind. In the center orchestra section, directly in the front row, a man in a suit sits among the rest of the balletomanes with dark sparkling eyes. The crowd cheers for the Bill and the man produces a single red rose from his coat and throws it on stage towards the dark haired boy. Bill reaches out a hand and catches the rose. 

 

The next thing he knows, Bill is falling.

 

“Bill!” A voice shouted and Bill’s eyes flew open. 

 

Suddenly Tom, Bill’s rock for supporting him, has neglected to support Bill’s weight and the boy is falling. Bill let out a terrified scream, body maneuvering so that he will land on his side, God forbid that he land on his legs and roll an ankle. 

 

Then Bill hit the floor and the company gasped. David is at Bill’s side immediately, hands frantically searching Bill all over for any hint of injury. However Bill’s doesn’t even bother replying that he fine before he’s risen to his feet and is advancing on Tom.

 

“You!” Bill screamed, hands curled in rage, “You fucking dropped me!”

 

“I did not!” Tom protested.

 

“You did too, you asshole!” Bill shoved Tom roughly in the chest and the older man stumbled. “What are you trying to get at dropping me like that? Huh? Hoping that I break a leg and I’ll be out for the season!”

 

“I would never!” Tom shouted, now enraged at Bill’s accusations. Bill had just accused Tom of sabotage, the worst thing one’s partner could do. A broken leg or rolled ankle would take someone out for the season. An entire season without practice and one’s career could be ruined.

 

“You did too! You dropped me!” Bill made a move to slap Tom but David grabbed Bill’s wrist. 

 

“Bill that’s enough!” David shook his head.

 

“But David!” Bill looked close to tears and David turned to Tom in disapproval.

 

“Everyone clear out. Practice is over for today.” David instructed. 

 

Bill snatched his hand back and cradled it to his chest, head ducked down so that no one could see his tears. Tom refused to look at Bill and had his arms crossed over his chest, jaw set tightly as David stared him down. Finally, when everyone had left, David let out a big sigh.

 

“Tomas,” David said softly, “I expect more from you.”

 

Tom said nothing.

 

“Do you understand the possible consequence of what you just did?” David frowned and Bill sniffed.

 

“You could have ruined my entire season.” Bill whispered, a haunted look on his face. “You could have ruined my career.”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

 

“Choose your words wisely.” David interrupted.

 

“Alright fine… I dropped you on purpose. I was frustrated and insulted. You can’t just walk into a company, a family that everyday people give their all for, and turn your nose up at it. I understand that Manhattan is not the level of American, but you can’t just treat people like that.” Tom shook his head.

 

“What Tom did was wrong, Bill, and he will be punished accordingly. But I agree with Tom is saying. I think a few people’s feeling were hurt with your attitude this morning.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” Bill said looking to David. He then turned to Tom and frowned. “But I will not apologize to you.”

 

“W-what?” Tom blanched.

 

“What I did was wrong, I acknowledge that now. But what you did is unforgivable. You were supposed to be my partner, someone that I trust with my body to not drop me, and you violated that contract. You’ve lost my trust with that little stunt and I refuse to work with you until you’ve gained it back.” Bill stamped his foot for emphasis and Tom’s face clouded over.

 

“But Bill,” David said weakly, “We need someone around Tom’s height for him to practice lifts with.”

 

“Then have one of the girls do it. You clearly said that I’m now in the corps, which means that I won’t be dancing a leading role, let alone as the Snowflake Queen. So pick a girl for the role already because I refuse to work with him if I’m not even going to be Premier danseur let alone a Coryphée.” Bill snapped. The boy then crossed the room and threw off his Pointe shoes in preparation to leave.

 

“I’ll be back here tomorrow at the same time to practice my role… with the corps.” Bill’s mouth spat out the word like it was something foul-tasting. The boy then threw on his coat and briefly checked his hair.

 

“Good day David.” Bill marched past the two men before storming out of the studio.

 

“Of all people, why him? I know plenty of other guys that’d be willing to work with us. So why him?” Tom demanded, eyes narrowed.

 

“Because there’s no one else quite like him.”

 

“Yeah I can see that. I don’t think even Sarah’s diva attitude can match up to that.” Tom snorted, glaring at the doors that Bill had disappeared to.

 

“We need him, Tom. You saw how good he was in warm-up. Bill is a fantastic dancer once you get past his behavioral problems.”

 

“I don’t think he’s worth the trouble.”

 

“Well he is.” David frowned, shoving Tom in the shoulder. “You will be courteous to him tomorrow no matter what. The poor boy has had it really tough these past few months.”

 

“Why? What happened?”

 

“Just do your job, Tom.” David picked up his coat and shut off the lights. The studio became considerably darker, the only light being the sunlight pouring in through the windows up in the rafters.

 

“By the way,” David called from the doorway and Tom turned to the man, “Your feet were a bit flat today. I’d be watching out for that if I were you, especially with Bill around.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You’re a great dancer Tom and Bill is too. The boy has potential… enough potential to even surpass you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tom breathed heavily as his feet struggled to keep up with the rapid pace at which Tom was counting in his mind. Aloud Jost droned on with the chant of _1, 2, 3, 4_ but Tom was going much faster. With each jump, Tom’s powerful calf muscles shot him in the air, ankles crossing mid-air, before he was landing in position again. 

 

Across the room, in the corps group, Bill was twirling round and round like a spinning top. With each fouetté, Bill’s left leg kicks out before coming back so that his ankle rests against his knee. While the others seem to be traveling all over, Bill remains in the same place, body executing the move with perfect form and precision. The teen’s lanky arms shoot out on both his sides before being brought back together before his chest. The right foot remains planted on the floor, only rising en pointe when Bill’s leg kicks out again. 

 

Tom could not seem to tear his eyes away from Bill, watching as Bill’s face came into view and then disappeared again with each rotation. A feeling of jealousy and resentment built within Tom as he snuck at glance at Jost. The short man has made his way over to the corps, still counting out loud, watching in amazement as Bill seemed to never stop. The thin boy’s chest was heaving now, pink t-shirt thrown askew so that one bony shoulder popped out, as Bill broke into a grin. Tom began to slow his movements, so caught up in watching Bill, he didn’t even notice when he came to a stop.

 

A few of the other dancers had stopped now too, all watching as Bill continued to fouettés en tournant over and over again. Off a short distance, in the back left corner of the studio, the three ballerinas that had been whispering about Bill the day before seethed in envy. Jackie, the boldest of the group, stepped forward and launched into pirouette à la seconde, the female counterpart to a fouettés en tournant. Bill noticed his new competition and frowned, spinning faster now as Jackie increased her pace as well. 

 

Suddenly it was as the world was moving in slow motion. Jackie entered her spin too quickly and her center balance moved off the box of her shoe. The girl’s arms went out to her sides, shock evident on her face, as she titled to one side and began to plummet towards the floor. In a foolish attempt to save herself, Jackie stuck her right foot out behind her as means to steady herself. Instead her ankle gave way with a sharp twist and Jackie collapsed. 

 

Bill immediately stopped, but in a very graceful manner, as he brought one hand up to his open mouth in shock. Jackie’s pained cry rang throughout the room and Jost was shoving through the crowd of dancers.

 

“Jackie? Jesus Christ.” David swore as he gently touched the girl’s twisted ankle. Jackie was positioned on her side now, both hands gripping the source of her pain, as tears flooded from her eyes. The rest of the company had now gathered around Jackie, everyone that was except for Bill. The teen remained where he had originally stood, a short distance from the group so that he could see what was going on, but by no means displaying concern or interest in the injured girl.

 

“It hurts!” Jackie sobbed.

 

“I think it might be twisted.” David said quietly and Jackie’s head shot up, anger flashing in her eyes.

 

“It’s not!” She immediately protested. “I just fell on it funny that’s all. I’m fine, I’ve held through worse.”

 

“Do you think you can straighten it?” David grabbed the girl’s foot and attempted to straighten the leg. 

 

Jackie bit her lip in a means to silence herself but when David tried to flex her foot en pointe, Jackie howled in pain and began to cry all over again. David stood up and frowned grimly, forehead drawn in thought.

 

“Someone get Maggie in here.” Jost instructed and a tall African-American man named Kaleb ran off towards the trainer’s room.

 

“I’m fine!” Jackie winced upon trying to stand and one of her friends pleaded with her to wait for the trainer. “No! I’m fine! David? David, I’m fine. Look at me!”

 

“Jackie just… just wait there for Maggie.” Jost sighed, starting into a pace.

 

“B-but David-” Jackie sobbed.

 

“Jackie don’t.” One of her friends whispered and the injured dancer broke down.

 

The rest of the company moved away slowly, not wanting to further upset the girl with the news they all knew. There was no way Jackie was fine after a fall like that. In fact, had Jackie not tried to save herself by extending out her foot she probably would have been fine. It was a simple technique that they’d all learned back at academy and yet it seemed Jackie had subconsciously fallen into bad habits. 

 

“Alright where is she?” A stout woman with unruly mousey brown hair entered the room followed by Kaleb. 

 

“Over here. Jackie O’Donnell fell during a pirouette.” 

 

“Oh jeez.” Maggie sighed, taking a look at the sobbing girl. “Alright sweetie, let’s have a look at you.”

 

When Maggie bent down to inspect Jackie’s ankle, Tom’s eyes sought out Bill in the crowd. The boy was nursing a water bottle, a sly grin pulling at his face, as he watched Jackie whimper in pain when Maggie began to push against her ankle. The dark-haired boy met Tom’s gaze and that smirk immediately fell off Bill’s lips.

 

Tom, himself, wasn’t even quite sure what sort of expression he wore facing Bill to wipe that cruel smugness from Bill. What Tom was sure of, was the quick flash of guilt in Bill’s eyes when Maggie announced the verdict that the company had been awaiting.

 

Tom closed eyes against the heartbroken sobs coming from Jackie on the floor.

* * *

**Fall Season**

Tom woke up in the morning with an upset stomach. He’d gone out with some people from the company last night to a new posh restaurant in the village and Tom chalks it up as from the alcohol.

 

But try as he may, the unpleasant churning and twisting of his innards does not stop. Tom’s in the back corridors of the theater now. Situated in a creaky wooden chair, he watched as the other dancers mill around the men’s changing room. Kaleb nodded in Tom’s direction and the man grimaced out a smile.

 

“What’s going on with you? Pull something?” Kaleb plopped down on the bench that ran the length between the lockers. “You should have Maggie check you out before you warm up.”

 

“Nah it’s not that.” Tom shook his head, wincing as a sword of pain ran through him again. “My damn stomach has been acting up all morning.”

 

“Hmm,” Kaleb hummed before tossing off jeans. Tom looked away in embarrassment. “Still I’d have Maggie check you out. I’m sure it’s nothing but better safe than sorry, huh?”

 

“Y-yeah whatever.” Tom’s face burned as he tried at all costs to avoid looking at Kaleb’s nudity. The man finally pulled on his leotard and turned back to Tom in interest.

 

“You ready?”

 

“Yeah I’m just going to go use the toilet. I’ll be out in five.” Tom groaned, standing up and gingerly rubbing his stomach. 

 

Kaleb said something about not being late again but Tom wasn’t paying attention any longer. Slowly the corn rowed man made his way through the maze and chaos that served as backstage for the practice studio. Things may have seemed pretty crowded already but Tom knew from experience that it could be much worse. They’d be moving the Kaye Playhouse where the company would be meeting up with the younger kids that took a majority of slots in the ballet. Tom loved performing The Nutcracker every year. It warmed his heart to see all of the aspiring little children gather around him and ask what it was like to be a professional, especially the boys who often confided in Tom that they were teased at school. 

 

Tom took sympathy with these boys, having himself been teased as a lad, and encouraged them to keep their chins held high and to not take shit from anyone. Well, Tom may have used another word in substitution for ‘shit’ but it’s essentially what he meant.

 

Upon entering the bathroom, Tom was surprised to see that he was not alone. Bill stood in the front of the mirror above the sink; a mess of makeup brushes and eye shadows lay across the countertop from where they’d spilled from Bill’s little makeup bag. Tom frowned upon seeing the name ‘ABT’ printed in gold threading boldly across the front.

 

“Oh,” Tom said dumbly, fumbling for the door handle. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

 

Bill raised an eyebrow and scoffed, turning back to the mirror. The bathroom had one stall and two urinals. Normally Tom had no problem using the urinal but it felt wrong to expose himself like that with Bill in there. In Tom’s mind, Bill was like a girl. Currently the raven-haired teen was drawing along the lower outer edges of his eyes with a dark pencil to complete the layer of makeup adorning his face. However Bill wasn’t simply applying stage makeup like Tom did for shows, no, Bill was applying makeup the way a girl would. If Tom pulled down his pants and used the urinal, it would be like peeing in front of a girl.

 

“Did you come in here for a reason or are you just to continue glaring at me like that? I’m not fucking leaving so if you need to take a dump, do it somewhere else.” Bill said bitterly and Tom had to remind himself about Jost’s request for them to at least act civil towards each other.

 

Tom let go of the handle and the door closed behind him. The bite in Bill’s tone was enough for Tom to make his decision. Releasing a sound of annoyance, Tom marched over to the urinal and threw down his gym shorts. From the corner of his eye, Tom watched as Bill continued to apply his makeup. The boy’s fingers were pale and long from where they lightly pushed at Bill’s face while the makeup brush dusted a layer of black over the upper lids. 

 

Tom’s warm release had died to a trickle when suddenly Bill’s eyes in the mirror darted towards Tom. The pair’s eyes met and both quickly looked away, faces burning. Bill looked away in the shame of looking while Tom looked away in the shame of having been watching Bill in the first place. Tom quickly tucked himself back into his pants while Bill stuffed his cosmetics back into his bag, shoulders tensing beneath his loose pink t-shirt.

 

Then, before Tom could even say anything, Bill was shoving out the door and scurrying off towards the studio. The man remained rooted in place, head cast downwards as his face burned. Tom had been staring at Bill and he’d been caught. He wasn’t even really sure why he had in the first place. It wasn’t like Tom was spacing out, he was _watching_ Bill put on his makeup.

 

An unpleasant twist of Tom’s stomach broke him of his thoughts.

 

“What the fuck, man?” Tom groaned in pain. The exited the bathroom and started off towards the dance studio, hands firmly clutching his middle.

* * *

The company was ending their Fall Season with a final performance of The Nutcracker at the end of December with the Winter Season starting after New Years. With only a week left until Christmas, the company’s schedule had become grueling with performance almost every day of the week.

 

The company had finally moved into the Kaye Playhouse and Tom could not contain the bubble of laughter that spilled from his throat when a hoard of children ran by. A group of girls, probably around age seven, ran past dressed as mice as their merry laughter and playful squeaks filled the air. Just then the street entrance doors to backstage were thrown open and the girls jumped with fright, all bumping into one another, as they knocked into the person entering.

 

“Ugh Jesus!” Bill cried, jumping backwards and the girls stared up at Bill in fright.

 

“We’re sorry.” A voice among the group spoke and Bill sent them a nasty glare.

 

“This is a theater not a playground. It’s forty minutes to show time, at your age I was already in costume and starting to warm up.” Bill snapped. “Try to be professional girls.”

 

“Bill, costume.” A blonde ballerina named Natalie walked past, handing off the elaborate white sequenced tutu to the boy. The girls watched with wide eyes and amused grins as Bill gratefully took the _girl_ costume Natalie offered.

 

“Now girls,” Tom grinned, stepping up behind the group. They turned to Tom with bright grins, having already discovered that Tom was one of the nicer adults. “Don’t be bothering Bill here too much. He’s a rather grumpy snowflake.”

 

“Tom!” Bill shouted, face red. Tom broke into peels of laughter and the girls followed suit.

 

“Now run along. Bill’s right, you girls really should be warming up.”

 

“Okay!” The girls chimed, “Bye Tom!”

 

Tom smiled, waving after them as they disappeared into the chaos that always accompanied a show. 

 

“You ass!” Bill hissed, punching Tom hard in the arm. The boy’s hair was gathered up in a tight bun, makeup already in place, with a glittering of silver sparkles covering his skin.

 

“Hey!” Tom yelped, clutching his arm and Bill rolled his eyes. “You could have seriously hurt me!”

 

“Oh shut up.” Bill’s words were harsh but he was smiling when he said them.

 

Over the past month, the Bill and Tom had fallen into their own version of getting along. There was less hostility between the two although the competitiveness was still there. Instead Bill and Tom constantly threw insults with no real fire behind, teasing each other daily in a manner that the rest of the company thought bordered on flirtation. Tom was still envious of Bill’s improving skill and Bill was still bitter that he was no longer Premier danseur. However things weren’t all too bad, Jost had hinted to Bill multiple times of being promoted in the next production and _New York_ magazine had gone out of its way to mention Bill in an article. 

 

“I’m the real reason people come to see us perform.” Bill stuck his nose up in the air and Tom snorted.

 

“Yeah right. People come to see the handsome Snowflake King with the nice body.” Tom returned and now it was Bill’s turn to snort.

 

“Nice body?” Bill made a show of stepping back slightly to take a good look at Tom. Tom had already changed into his tights, and while Bill was unhappy to admit it, Tom looked hot. 

 

“You should see the balletomanes, they’re practically gagging for it.”

 

“If you’re referring to that group of women in their forties that come to every show _to see their six-year-old daughters_ then yes, they’re gagging for it.” Bill stifled a laugh behind his hand and Tom’s face dropped.

 

“No way! They have kids in the show?” 

 

“Bye Tom.” Bill wiggled his fingers before he was heading off towards the dressing room to get in his costume. A couple of the guys made comments that Bill was in the wrong room but Bill knew not to take offense. He’d fallen easily into the routine of the Manhattan Ballet, getting to know each member of the company unintentionally over time.

 

“Ha very funny. I should be in the girl’s changing room, never heard that one before.” Bill rolled his eyes as he stepped into his leotard and messed with his tutu. It was a long piece, falling limp around his knees like a skirt rather than what one from outside the ballet world normally thinks of as a tutu. The stiff tutus were reserved for soloists and unfortunately for Bill, he was not one.

 

“Alright people,” David poked his head into the dressing room, “Twenty minutes until show time! Go get warmed up if you haven’t already! Full house again like yesterday.”

 

“And like the day before that,” Kaleb muttered under his breath and Bill giggled, “It’s always a full house around the holidays. You ready snowflake princess?”

 

“Not you too!” Bill whined and Kaleb laughed.

 

“I’m just kidding with you.” Kaleb teased as the pair filed out towards the stage. The curtain was still drawn closed and across the way to the side stage, Bill could see Tom dressed in a scarf and long coat for the opening scene. Two makeup assistants and a few stagehands waited patiently to side, prepared to help with the costume changes between scenes. The techies were still messing with the lights overhead and Bill sighed, eyes trailing upwards towards the giant net full of fake snow that hung above the stage.

 

The snow was one of the many reasons that Bill hated the holidays. Bill had been in The Nutcracker before but always as either the Nutcracker or the Snowflake King. Logically it would make sense that being in the corps as a snowflake, Bill would have to do that ridiculous dance where fake snow fell down around them. What Bill did not expect was for the snow to be gathered up and reused for each performance. The company was already more than halfway done with schedule for The Nutcracker and the snow had started to turn a little nasty with bits of dust, hairpins, and mysterious fuzz mixed into it. There was nothing that Bill despised when that net let loose and the fake snow rained down.

 

Finally the curtain rose and the show began. Bill watched in mild disinterest as the story of little Marie Staulbahm, more commonly known as Clara Staulbahm but Jost argued that Marie was the right way… the Russian way, received a nutcracker for Christmas. The audience clapped after each scene and Bill snuck a glance at the clock. He hated how long this damn show was.

 

Finally the music changed and it was Tom’s turn. Bill dashed onto the stage with the rest of the corps girls as they danced in unison behind Tom and Winona, the Snowflake Queen. The corps raised their arms above their heads and moved gracefully, perfect furniture adding depth to the background. Tom’s hands held Winona’s waist tightly as she turned in his hold en pointe. The crowd applauded and Winona exited the stage. Bill and the corps followed so that Tom was the only one left on stage.

 

The music changed once more, a violin romantically coming in as the rest of the string instruments died down. The end of the first act was approaching. Beth, the thirteen-year-old that was playing Marie, and Sebastian, the sixteen-year-old that was playing the Nutcracker, had already ascended into the top balcony area across from the chorus. The excited eyes of children in the crowd sought the pair out, tugging on their mothers’ sleeves to point out that Marie and the Nutcracker were only a distance away. 

 

The audience clapped politely as Tom took center stage, a lone snowflake with all eyes on him. The strumming of a harp began and Tom bowed gracefully in direction of Beth and Sebastian. After all, the Snowflake King was merely a loyal subject before that of the impressive Nutcracker. 

 

“He’s something isn’t he?” A voice whispered behind Bill’s back and the teen jumped with fright.

 

“Ah!” Bill squeaked, whirling around wildly to see who his uninvited guest was. “Natalie, I told you not to sneak up on me like that!”

 

“It’s not really sneaking when you’re zoning out.” Natalie quipped, staring out onto the stage at Tom. Her blonde hair was gathered up in a tight high bun as was Bill’s long dark locks. Both dancers were identical in dress, makeup, and even build save for the fact that something much different laid beneath Bill’s tutu. The length of the piece however hide Bill’s secret while his chest posed no problem at all. Natalie snaked her thin arms around Bill’s neck and rested against the teen’s back.

 

“We’re on in three minutes.” A voice called out behind the pair and Bill waved his hand dismissively. He knew the timing of every act down to the last second.

 

“So what did you think of Winona?” Natalie’s whisper was hot against Bill’s ear and he smiled, jostling her with his elbow.

 

“Her footing was off and she slipped slightly during her solo.” Bill noted. Winona had never been the most skilled dancer but she had seniority and a loud voice to back herself up.

 

“It’s the third time she’s slipped in the last week. David is getting mad.”

 

“Well then why doesn’t he do something about it?” Bill returned, half-listening as he watched Tom.

 

While the heavy white makeup on Tom’s face may have made him look flawless to the crowd, Bill could see from this close range that Tom had broken into a heavy sweat. Tom moved in a way that so different than Bill’s. While Bill’s every movement was graceful and delicate, every move of Tom’s was powerful and explosive. Even a simple Soutenu en tournant was given new life as Tom covered the distance of the stage before launching into a jete. The man’s legs shot open mid-air in a split, muscles flexing and bulging beneath his white tights. 

 

The dark haired teen’s eyes trailed up and down Tom’s form as he leaped over and over again. The audience awed softly as Tom turned them, face set firmly in a look on great concentration, before spinning off in an en dehors. There was less hand movement in Tom’s routine to add further emphasis on his jumps and jump he did. 

 

The man’s cornrows had been powdered white with makeup but sweat had begun to grease the roots clean. Another makeup check would be in order during the intermission but for now Tom would just have to bear through. He moved with the music, legs held straight, toes pointed and foot unnaturally arched, as he flitted about like a snowflake tumbling through the air. Tom was breathtaking and Bill almost didn’t hear when the stagehand called for the corps to enter again for the final dance of the snowflakes.

“Bill, go!” Natalie hissed, shoving him lightly in the shoulder as she hurried out onto the stage. 

 

Bill blinked before composing and hurrying out to his spot. Confused as to why he’d spaced out so much, Bill set into a piqué. He rose over the box of his show and extended his arms outwards, the other leg rising behind him as he leaned his chest forward. Winona their Snowflake Queen had returned to them from the opposite side of the stage and the corps fell back into position. The girls formed a v shape with Winona dancing in the center. Meanwhile Tom weaved in and out of the corps as their grueling first hour was almost at an end. 

 

The corn rowed man passed Bill a bit too closely, arm grazing Bill’s, and the teen had to force himself to continue to look straight and smile out at the crowd. It was a sloppy move on Tom’s part and Bill didn’t know if he was doing it to be annoying or if it truly was by accident. Either way, Bill’s skin broke out in gooseflesh and he trembled slightly. 

 

Waltz for the Snowflakes burst forth from the orchestra pit with a volume that left Bill’s ears ringing a good half-hour after the show. The children’s chorus sang overhead, their high voices reaching that high note with perfect ease. Finally their dance came to an end and Bill dropped down into his pose among the rest of the furniture, smile wide across his face while he just really wanted this all to end.

 

The audience applauded as Tom and Winona waved gaily to Beth and Sebastian. Then the heavy velvet curtains fell closed and Bill dropped his arms. The rest of corps grimaced, rubbing at their necks and shoulders as they filed off the stage for a short rest before the next act.

 

Bill would have to change costumes again and get his makeup redone to now become a flower. As if he wasn’t teased enough as it was for being a snowflake.

 

“Great job, Bill.” A little girl from the youth ballet beamed up at Bill when he walked off backstage.

 

“Oh.” Bill’s mouth twitched, “Thanks… you too. You have a lot of potential.”

 

That was a lie flat out. Bill could already see that this girl would not grow up to have the ideal form of a dancer’s. Her prepubescent body was already displaying signs to growth through her hips and soon she’d be too wide for her costumes and too heavy for the boys to lift. A part of Bill truly felt sorry for this girl as she really had no control over what her body would end up like. But then Bill thought of all that he endured as a child to get where he was today and his sympathy was quickly forgotten.

 

“I have to get changed.” Bill said, starting off towards the men’s changing room.

 

“O-of course.” The girl blushed, bright red and Bill hurried away uncomfortable with the situation.

 

On his way to the changing room, a hand lightly grabbed Bill’s arm and pulled him behind a prop for the candy palace. Bill was surprised to see that it was Tom that awaited him hiding in the darkness.

 

“Hey.” Tom grinned, still slightly out of breath as he let go of Bill’s arm. He brought his hand up and wiped some sweat from his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as he did.

 

“Um,” Bill looked behind them to make sure that no one could see them, “What’s up?”

 

“Look, I know you think I’m an ass but…” Tom scratched at the back of his neck and snuck a glance at Bill. The teen had crossed his arms over his chest and was waiting patiently, counting mentally how much more of the intermission they had left.

 

“I’m glad you agree so.” Bill nodded his head and Tom shot him a look.

 

“Don’t be a brat. Look I know that you and I didn’t quite set off on the right foot but I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee after the show.” Tom clenched the base of his neck the minute the words came out and Bill’s jaw dropped.

 

“Excuse me? You fucking drop me on my first day and now you’re asking me out? Is this your idea of a joke?” Bill snarled, eyes narrowed, nails tensing where he’d lodged them into his arm.

 

“It’s not a joke.” Tom snapped, “If you’re going to be like this, sorry I asked.”

 

The man turned to leave when Bill grabbed his arm. Tom turned to the teen in surprise and Bill bit his lip, thinking over his words carefully.

 

“Tom wait.”

 

“Yeah?” Tom’s eyes were so intense that for the first time in awhile Bill felt intimidated. The dark haired teen smiled weakly and squeezed the man’s arm.

 

“I could use come coffee.”


	3. Chapter 3

With the final fall of the curtains, the night’s performance of The Nutcracker was finally over. The audience had roared in approval as the heavy velvet curtains fell closed in a sweep and the children’s choir departed from their perch overlooking the theater. The dancers staggered off stage, some laughing amongst their friends, while others rubbed at their sore muscles and talked of crawling into bed. 

 

Bill pulled his arm behind his head, squeezing his eyes tightly, as a little yawn fell past his lips. He was sore but not overly sore as others had complained of being. Being in the corps was demanding in that Bill appeared in almost every scene of the ballet. His feet were aching and all he really wanted to do was go home. 

 

But Bill could not go home for he had promised to get coffee with Tom. Looking back on it, Bill really didn’t know why he had said yes in the first place. The teen stacked it up to being through with starting drama and fights with the older man. But then why had Bill’s body tingled pleasantly when Tom had first asked him? Bill had been offended as well, thinking that Tom was teasing him or had somehow caught onto these strange conflicted feelings that made Bill grit his teeth in anger. 

 

“See you later man.” Tom’s voice drifted from somewhere in the dressing room and Bill looked up just in time to see Kaleb leaving, duffel bag swung over his shoulder as he’d changed back into his street clothes. 

 

“Yeah see you.” Kaleb called, making his way through the changing bodies and rows of lockers. 

 

“Bye.” Bill smiled from where he was sitting on a bench, carefully peeling away his shoes from his bleeding feet.

 

“See you little man.” Kaleb tossed back, affectionately ruffling Bill’s bun that was gathered high on his head.

 

“Stop!” Bill whined and the man laughed.

 

“Oh don’t be such a baby.”

 

“I’m not!” Bill protested and Kaleb chuckled, dropping his bag to the ground as he took a seat besides Bill. The dancer lowered his head to the others and spoke in a hushed whisper.

 

“You remember that girl I was telling you about?”

 

“Yeah.” Bill had steadily become closer with Kaleb with each show. Bill was the ideal friend. He was man in that Kaleb was among men, but Bill was also sensitive to things. The teen understood emotions better than most guys and that was precisely the reason why Kaleb had sought Bill out to ask for advice on girls. Talking to Bill was like talking to a girl… packed up tight in a man’s body. Kaleb tended not to dwell too much on the thought.

 

“Well she’s coming to the show on Friday.” Kaleb grinned.

 

“The one that you met at the coffee shop?” Bill’s face lighted up. Kaleb brought a hand to Bill’s shoulder in means of silence before subtly looking around the room. No one had noticed Bill’s excited squeal.

 

“Don’t broadcast it. Yeah the one that I met at the coffee shop.”

 

“Oh I’m so happy for you! Wow! Someone from outside of the ballet world.” Bill mused to himself. Ballet consumed much of any dancer’s schedule not allowing for much time for socialization outside of one’s own company or others associated with the ballet world. 

 

“She’s really nice and I’m thinking about inviting her to the company’s party on New Years.” Kaleb nodded, grinning shyly despite the masculine exterior he tried to upkeep. 

 

“Oh you should! I want to meet her!” 

 

“You can meet her after the show if you want. I think she’d like you a lot.”

 

“I’ll be all sweaty after the show though.” Bill frowned, looking down to his bloodied foot. “And I’ll smell.”

 

“It’s not like you’re dating her.” Kaleb snorted. “I’m the one that she’s going to have to smell.”

 

“I always make a good first impression though.” 

 

“You are so full of shit. You’re not that bad once someone gets to know you. But when first meeting you?” Kaleb laughed and Bill pouted. “So I need some advice on what to do when I greet her.”

 

“You kiss her obviously… on the mouth, not some sissy kiss on the cheek. Girls hate it when you’ll kiss them in private but not out in public. It makes them think they’re some dirty secret or something.” The teen caught Tom’s eye from across the room and the corn rowed man smiled, beginning to make his way over to the pair.

 

“But she’s bringing her brother. Apparently her brother is a big balletomane or something and he wants to see the show. So do I kiss her in front of her brother? Wouldn’t that be awkward?” Kaleb’s brow wrinkled as he realized Bill’s attention was focused elsewhere. “Bill?”

 

“Don’t kiss her in front of her brother.” Bill turned back to the dancer. “But try to get a moment alone with her in the beginning so you can properly greet her. That’s the way to do it.”

 

“That’s the way to do what exactly?” Tom joined them, dressed in sagging jeans and a black puff jacket. “Hope I’m not interrupting something.”

 

“No I was just about to go. I’ll leave you two alone. I can take a hint.” Kaleb sent Bill a knowing grin and Bill balked when the man wiggled his eyebrows. “Thanks for the advice, Bill.”

 

“Yeah bye.” Bill waved as the man left. 

 

The changing room had mostly cleared out now save for one or two dancers that were just about to leave anyways. The muffled sounds of the stage crew packing up for the night snuck under the door and big round light bulbs at the vanities hummed while they glowed. Tom’s makeup had been washed off, his black cornrows now shown their true color with no traces of the white powder left over. The man grinned down at the teen, boyish grin gracing his features that made Tom look much younger, less intense and more carefree.

 

“You ready?” _For our date_ , but Tom left that part off.

 

“Yeah just give me a minute, still haven’t packed up yet.” Bill pulled his costume off and went to hang it up for the cleaning crew to take care of it. However when the teen was about to strip out of his leotard, nude beneath that article of clothing, Tom looked away. 

 

“So I was thinking of going to this place by my apartment. It’s family owned and they brew this awesome coffee that’s from Peru or something.” Tom spoke to the lockers and Bill giggled. 

 

When the teen was safely dressed in his tight black t-shirt and some dark-wash jeans that hung a little loose around his hips, Tom looked to Bill again. The teen was tossing his pointe shoes in the trash bin, muttering about what a pain it would be to break in a new pair. On average at this level, a dancer went through two to three pairs of shoes a month. Bill’s were shot and long past due for replacing but he’d been reluctant. It was bothersome to break in new shoes and Bill would often place the box in a doorway and repeatedly slam the door on it to soften it up. 

 

“I’m done changing, you can look.” Bill tugged on his combat boots and turned to Tom expectantly. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The cool winter air stung Bill’s eyes as the pair walked through the streets of New York. Occasionally a shadow would obscure their path, both other than that, all of the streets were lit up. They walked along Park to get to Fifth. The avenue glittered with its fanciful shops and window displays just as no doubt Times Square bustled with tourists and the flashing of cameras. 

 

This was Bill’s New York. Snow had yet to fall so the streets were still clean, unlike how they were covered in grey slush for most of the winter and early spring, and Bill’s boots scuffed in rhythm to Tom’s sneakers. They walked past the park before coming upon the coffee shop that Tom had spoken about earlier. 

 

“After you.” Tom grinned; cheekily holding the door open and Bill shoved him in the shoulder. 

 

“Enough.” Bill rolled his eyes and tromped right on in.

 

An elderly Peruvian woman stood behind the counter, calm smile on her face, as Bill and Tom were the only costumers in the small shop. Christmas music played softly in the background and an ice hockey match was flashing on the television by the fireplace. Paper cut out snowflakes hung overhead and Bill’s smile quickly fell away. Tom, however, took no notice.

 

“Back again so soon?” The woman said, “You bring girlfriend this time?”

 

“What?” Bill blinked, looking around the shop for whom the woman could possibly be talking about. 

 

“No, no. We’re just friends.” Tom laughed, not even bothering to correct the woman on Bill’s gender. Tom stepped up the counter and pulled his wallet out. “We’d like two of the…”

 

Bill droned out Tom and surveyed the shop, nose wrinkling in distaste when he spotted a newspaper lying out on one of the tables. Slowly he picked up the piece and read the headlines, eyes scanning the feature article on the front page and the smiling newsprint image of a man.

 

“Hey, hope you’re not too big on cream. I got a little since it really takes away from the flavor.” Tom set the cups down at the table Bill was standing before and the teen sat down.

 

“I don’t mind.” Bill murmured, gaze still fixed at the newspaper before him.

 

“It’s damn cold out.” Tom sat down and pulled off his coat, draping it over the back of his chair. He then clapped his hands together and blew on them while rubbing them together furiously. “There’s not even snow on the ground yet and it’s already in the twenties!”

 

“I’m so hot when we get out that I don’t really notice.” Bill returned. Tom stopped his jabbering and watched as Bill seemed intent on studying the newspaper in his hands. The man frowned and grabbed the top, plucking it from the boy’s grasp.

 

“Hey!” Bill protested and Tom wagged a finger at him.

 

“You’re not chickening out on me are you? Suddenly the newspaper is more interesting than the Snowflake King?” Tom raised an eyebrow.

 

“Oh please. Not this again.” Bill laughed, taking a sip of his coffee finally. “Wow… this is really good.”

 

“Hmm,” Tom hummed taking a sip himself, “Told you so.”

 

“I’ve never been here before.” Bill spoke suddenly when he saw Tom’s eyes trail down to the paper. “It’s really nice… nice and quite…” 

 

Bill trailed off, as Tom seemed absorbed reading. Bill watched Tom’s reactions, how the man’s brow rose before he was looking up to Bill.

 

“Anis Ferchichi?” 

 

“Oh yeah… there was an article about him in the paper.” Bill tried to act disinterested but Tom noticed the way the boy bristled. 

 

“Says here,” Tom never took his eyes off Bill, “That he donated a million to the American Ballet. That’s quite a generous gift.”

 

“Probably to compensate for that the ABT lost one of its brightest stars.” Bill smirked and Tom could sense the shift in the boy’s attitude. Something about Anis Ferchichi irked Bill, Tom didn’t know what exactly, but he could tell from the way Bill’s whole body tensed that there was a dislike towards the other party.

 

“So I’m glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.” Tom coughed and Bill blushed.

 

“It’s not a date if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bill replied quickly, fingers flicking at the coffee cup absentmindedly. “We’re just getting coffee as friends-no-not even friends… as acquaintances.”

 

“Don’t give me that shit. We’re getting coffee as friends and that’s the end of it.” Tom took another sip and Bill smiled down at his cup.

 

“You don’t mind?” The teen mumbled.

 

“Mind what?”

 

“About you’re friends teasing you for hanging out with a kid. About what people will say, what the company will say. About our age difference.” Bill whispered. Suddenly all of that seething rage that Tom was so accustomed to seeing fell away to leave this fragile creature. Bill almost looked shy in the way he was glancing out towards the street, refusing to meet Tom’s gaze.

 

“I mean,” Tom started, just having realized that he never really did find out how old Bill was. “You gotta at least be around my age.”

 

“And how old are you?” From the sound of his voice, it seemed that Bill already knew.

 

“I’m twenty-five.” Tom said, still not seeing where Bill was going with this.

 

“Well I’m eighteen.” 

 

Tom’s jaw dropped.

 

“W-what?” Tom stammered before quickly leaning across the table to hiss, “What?”

 

“It never really came up.” Bill shrugged and then Tom saw him for what he truly was.

 

Despite the dark circles under the boy’s eyes, no doubt from the straining performance schedule, Tom saw dewy youth. He saw the way Bill’s skin was still so fresh and clean despite living in a city as filthy as New York. He saw the young features that Bill tried make seem older with the use of makeup and clothing choices. Suddenly Bill was no longer the competition that Tom had viewed him as earlier, this was not someone of the same age that Tom could attack relentlessly, this was a kid.

 

“No way.” Tom said once his mind started working again. Bill just shrugged again and took a sip of his coffee.

 

“Yeah well it’s true.”

 

“No way, like no fucking way you’re only eighteen. How can you only be eighteen and be so-” Tom shut up before he said anything that could be perceived as a compliment or admiration of Bill’s skill.

 

“So good?” Bill’s confidence seemed to return and Tom relaxed some. He was more used to Bill when the teen acted older anyways.

 

“Well you still have a lot to learn. Although I guess your age does explain you’re inferior skills.” Tom grinned and Bill kicked him from under the table.

 

“Watch it.” Bill’s tone was icy. “Don’t go thinking that you’re better than me or that you can push me around just because I’m a kid.”

 

“Bill.” Tom’s playful disposition became serious. He slouched across the table and lightly placed his hand over Bill’s, noting how the boy’s face flushed with color. 

 

“I’m not going to hold this over you. I respect you as a dancer and as my competition.” Bill’s brow rose at that last statement. “Don’t look so surprised. You have a lot of talent and you know it. I’m in the cushy spot, one rank above the highest you ever were, and I know you want it.”

 

“T-Tom.” Bill’s eyes stared at where Tom’s hand rested on his.

 

“I respect you as an equal.” Tom’s tongue swiped over his lip as he debated on whether or not to say the last part. “ _Age doesn’t matter to me._ ”

 

“Hey, hey mister.” The woman behind the counter called from where she was starting to put up chairs. “We closing now. Come back to tomorrow and bring girlfriend.”

 

“You ready to go?” Tom stood up and pulled Bill’s chair out for him.

 

“Yeah.” Bill pulled on his coat and threw the remainders of his coffee in the trash. Tom however slugged down the rest of it in a rather unattractive manner.

 

“Bye-bye!” The woman called as she shut the door behind them.

 

Then Bill and Tom were standing outside in the cold night air once more. Central Park was still all lit up and if you listened closely, you could hear the bells of the horse carriages pulling people through the park. Bill felt no concern about the time however, he’d have to walk back past Fifth Avenue to get to his apartment and that entire area was all lit up and swarmed with people.

 

“Do you need me to walk you home?” Tom asked, swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and Bill shook his head.

 

“No, I have to walk back through Fifth so I’ll be fine. Where are you headed?”

 

“Seventh.” Tom replied and Bill’s jaw dropped.

 

“Seventh? You said that this place was near you’re apartment! Seventh is on the other side of the park!” 

 

“Yeah well…” Tom scratched his neck and shrugged a little. “I wanted to take you some place nice.”

 

“But Seventh? We went out of your way to come here.” Bill shook his head, the hairs that had come loose from his bun whipping around his face. 

 

Tom’s eyes met Bill’s then, a conflicted look of tenderness and something else that mirrored pain. They were alone on the street, standing beneath a humming streetlamp that cast the both in light, as the merry sounds of Central Park poured out in the distance. The air was still and Bill’s breath was visible in small puffs that hung in front of his face. Tom’s body moved towards him then, one arm outstretched as a hand came to rest on Bill’s waist. The other slid up to Bill’s face and brushed the fly-aways behind the teen’s ear.

 

Neither spoke. They only continued to search the other’s eyes, happy with the consent that approved of this body language. Bill’s breath was coming out hotly now, lids heavy while his heart beat in his chest like a drum. Tom swallowed almost nervously, his eyes locked on Bill’s mouth as he tightened his grip around Bill’s waist. The man then pulled the younger one closer, warmth transferring between their bodies, as their snuggled form was illuminated beneath the street lamp.

 

Bill’s mind seemed to slow as his lips instinctually puckered up to meet Tom’s and his eyes fell shut chastely. Tom could only stare at Bill’s serene face, stomach fluttering madly with desire while his heart stung with confliction. Bill waited a few moments, standing on his tiptoes to reach upwards towards the older man, but found that Tom’s lips never met his.

 

Then the spell was broken as Bill’s eyes opened in confusion and Tom’s grip dropped from around his waist. The corn rowed dancer coughed and quickly stepped away from Bill as if he were made of fire. Bill crossed his arms in hurt and an emotion that border lined on disappointment before his mind cleared. Bill had almost kissed Tom. Tom who had dropped him on the first day, Tom who continually made cracks at Bill for looking like a girl, the same Tom who was Bill’s competition for the premiere spot in the company. Now it was Bill’s turn to pull back and he looked away ashamed and embarrassed at Tom’s rejection and his own want for the kiss to happen.

 

“I’m sorry.” Tom was the first to break the awkward silence and Bill shook his head.

 

“No I’m sorry.” The teen sighed, tucking the piece of hair that Tom had previously touched back behind his ear.

 

“I think I should be going home now. I’ll see you at workout tomorrow morning?” Tom smiled weakly, turning in the direction of Seventh.

 

“Yeah I’ll see you at workout.” Bill bit his lip and nodded briskly. He then thought better of it as Tom began to walk away.

 

“Don’t be late again, Tom!” Bill called out playfully and Tom turned around to send him a grin.

 

And instantly like that, the tension between the two was broken. An awkward situation was swiftly swept under the rug as Bill and Tom fell back into their playful method of getting along. This date would have no effect in how they acted towards each other… or so Bill thought.

 

Bill turned to leave, hugging his coat tighter around himself as he headed back towards his apartment. The teen only got a few feet down the street before he heard Tom swearing loudly as he walked in the opposition direction.

 

“Eighteen! Fuck!”

 

Bill’s face burned and he walked a little faster, choosing not to acknowledge that he’d heard the anger and disappointment in Tom’s voice. Looks like that would-be kiss would have a greater effect than Bill thought.


	4. Chapter 4

“Eighteen! Fuck!” Tom swore, breath ghosting out before him in a small puff. Tom scowled and swatted at the thing as he marched off towards Seventh.

 

The traffic in the park had begun to die down. A few serious joggers still wandered by occasionally, each equipped with either pepper spray or a stun-gun or some sort, as they passed by the swearing man. The night air was cold but Tom paid no mind to how it had turned his cheeks and nose a rosy red as he tugged down his coat collar in an attempt to breath. 

 

“Fucking Christ! Jesus, fuck!” Tom clenched his hands and a woman jogging nearby sent him a dirty look. 

 

“Yeah keep walking lady!” Tom snapped and the woman’s face pulled into a look of being offended.

 

Tom was both angry and disappointed within himself. His mind kept going back to the kiss Bill and he almost shared. Tom could still remember it so vividly in his mind. He recalled how he’d been watching Bill the entire night during the boy’s performance, how much he longed to reach out and touch Bill to ascertain if the boy was even real. The teen looked like a creature of another world when performing, his form was excellent and his body moved like a whip cracking through the air. The stage makeup had made Bill’s pale skin shiny and reflective as the silver sparkles caught beneath the stage lights. Tom had been unable to take his eyes off of Bill. In fact, the dancer had become so enraptured with Bill’s performance that he’d by accident drew a little too close. One brush of the arm and Tom’s entire sensory nervous system had gone wild. On a feverish impulse Tom had pulled the dark haired boy to the side and asked him to get coffee.

 

It wasn’t a date necessarily, Tom had not called the outing as such knowing that Bill would decline, but there was nothing wrong with getting coffee as friends. A friend, the word was not what Tom wanted to describe his relationship with Bill as. From the first day, Tom had been captivated with Bill’s looks but as the man got to know Bill better, his attraction went far beyond looks. The older dancer adored the way Bill would jump into the rosin box and stamp his feet like a kiddie in a sandbox. He loved watching the way Bill’s eye wrinkled when he pulled his face in disgust or better yet, when he smiled. And rare as it was, Tom loved Bill’s laugh. The boy’s true laugh was a chiming delightful noise full of innocent wonder while his fake laugh was cruel, unsuiting, and even cynical in nature as the teen used it mock others. 

 

But Tom knew the real Bill now. Tom knew that the real Bill was not this cold hearted, brass-balled, prick that was rude and scornful towards those around him. Steadily over time Tom had caught bits and glances of the real Bill during practice days. And especially tonight, the real Bill had come out while the pair had gotten coffee and it became difficult for Tom to control his hands. All the older man wanted to do was to gather up that lost scared soul and comfort him. They way Bill’s vision had kept flickering back and forth between the table and Tom had been the final push.

 

However it was in that last moment, when Bill’s eyes had fallen shut and his lips had puckered, that Tom’s dream-like experience had come screeching to a halt. Bill was barely an adult, still in child in Tom’s mind, and he was instantly disgusted with himself. Of course Bill was lost and confused so he put up an act of being tough, the teen was out of his element and probably had sought comfort. Moving to a new company was scary and Bill was most likely living on his own or with a roommate as most professionals did. Tom was fourteen when he’d moved to New York to study at the ballet academy and judging from Bill, it seemed the boy had been in a similar boat.

 

Tom refused to be _that_ guy, the one that took advantage of people when they were without guidance. This thing, this attraction, had to stop. It wasn’t good to date within the company anyways and Tom wouldn’t be able to face the others with the knowledge that he was with one of the youngest members of the company. How would that make Tom look as a leader?

 

Finding a subway entrance was no problem as the city was littered with them. He boarded the train and rode it all the way into Harlem. Then Tom hopped off and started off towards his apartment on West One-Fiftieth and Seventh. 

 

Tom’s journey had led him through the dark alleyways of New York, past the sparkling rows of shopping heaven, and into the filthied apartment complex area. He didn’t exactly live in the nicest part of town but there was far worse. Tom enjoyed his surroundings and rent was cheap, that was always a bonus in Tom’s book. Pedestrians roamed the street even at this hour and Tom looked both ways before taking out his keys.

 

The climb to Tom’s apartment was a long one and there was no elevator in the building. Slowly the man’s aching muscles pulled him up the staircase and deposited him on the third floor.

 

Tom slumped against the door in gratitude.

* * *

Bill’s journey home had led the teen in the exact opposite of Tom. While the corn rowed man had traveled far to return back to Harlem, Bill’s short trip had returned him to his apartment above a local grocery store on West Fortieth and Fifth. Address was everything in New York and Bill’s was substantially better than Tom’s. 

 

The teen lived in his studio apartment by himself, one small room composing Bill’s entire living space. The bedroom led directly into the sitting area and the sitting area led directly into the kitchen and bathroom. It was small but Bill had made the most of it allowing the space to appear more open with the use of mirrors and strategic furniture planning from Ikea. 

 

The boy undressed as he walked, letting his clothes to fall carelessly on the floor, before coming to a stop in front of the refrigerator. Groaning softly, Bill yanked open the door and grabbed the milk carton opting to drink directly out of it. He drank his fill before snatching up a carrot and heading off towards the shower. 

 

Chewing on the root vegetable as he walked, Bill picked up his discarded clothes and stuffed them into a nearby drawer. All Bill wanted to do was fall asleep.

* * *

It was a quarter past ten when that damn knocking started up again just as it started up every night. While most neighbors would complain, Tom had always silently enjoyed it.

 

A girl named Stephanie, or Sammy, or was it Sarah? Whatever the girl’s name was, she was hot. Tom had a pretty good idea what she did for a job but Tom didn’t really care, the girl had rack and damn Tom got hard just from thinking about it. This Sue chick always wore the lowest the tops and the tightest black yoga pants that displayed her round bum for Tom to admire when she got the newspaper in the morning. 

 

Well every night at around ten or sometimes eleven, Sabrina’s boyfriend would come over and screw her into the mattress. Well Sadie was a real whore and would moan real loud while the bed knocked against Tom’s wall with such force it was wonder the plaster had yet to give way.

 

Again the grunts had started up again followed by the high pitch whines and cries that signaled the daily routine had already started. The girl was especially loud tonight, or was it because Tom had all this pent up anger over Bill?

 

“Oh! Oh yes! Oh yes baby! Give it to me! Ugh!” The girl’s voice moaned and the wall in Tom’s sitting room banged loudly. 

 

“Yeah? Yeah? You like that?” The man’s voice was muffled through the wall. “Take it. Oh yeah, take it.”

 

“Oh fuck! Yes! Yes!” 

 

Tom’s face pulled into a scowl as his groin began to react. The man really wasn’t in the mood tonight to listen and get off like he normally did. The girl’s voice was no longer as enticing as it once had been and all Tom could think of was Bill. Bill with his long silky black hair and Bill with his pink lips and hazel eyes. Tom wished that Bill’s age wasn’t such a factor because the boy truly was beautiful. 

 

The bed banging against the wall made up Tom’s mind.

 

“Oh fuck it.” He hissed, unzipping his jeans and tossing them to the floor. Tom’s hand snaked into his pants and there he found ecstasy.

* * *

Bill was on his stomach, legs crossed and swinging back and forth, as he skimmed through a fashion magazine. He’d finished his shower and now his long tresses hung wetly around his face. Occasionally the boy would hum under his breath when he saw something he particularly liked before dog-earring the page. 

 

Bill studied an article on the latest must-have bag, after all Bill was addicted to these sort of things, and traced his finger over the glossy page. There was a large featurette on the new Céline luggage and Bill decided to start saving up to get one. He’d get a medium that is, not a mini or the micro, but a nice medium in lune. 

 

The boy laughed at the idea and flipped to the next page.

* * *

Stella’s pleasured cries were growing louder and Tom knew that she’d be coming soon. He yanked furiously at himself and imagined in his head that it was Bill’s hand instead of his. 

 

Tom could see it now. He envisioned Bill, his small frame dressed beneath one of Tom’s sleeping shirts naked legs jutting out at the bottom, as he eyed Tom sexily. The fantasy was enough to make Tom throw his face into the cushions of the couch and moan.

* * *

Bill yawned as he lowered his head onto his arm to rest. Still the teen continued to flip through the magazine in disinterest until the turning pages finally stopped. Bill could only stare down at the advertisement before him in curiosity.

 

About several or so naked men kneeled on all fours, black leather collars fastened tightly around their necks, as they huddled around the form of a woman. The woman was dressed in black leather, sly grin on her face, as she tugged on one leash to bring one of the men closer. Each of the men had the bright red mark of a handprint displayed on their rear leading one to believe that the woman had spanked them all.

 

It was a very suggestive ad, something that wouldn’t be run in magazines to normal consumers but only in those fashion magazines that people specially subscribed to. Bill’s toes curled as that familiar feeling built in his groin and the teen’s face flushed.

* * *

The bed banged against the wall one last time before the man and Stacey was coming. They choked out moans and groaned obscenely as their releases were stripped of each other. Then Tom’s apartment was silent.

 

Tom however was still going, eyes closed as he played back fantasies of Bill in his head. The thought of Bill fingering himself while sucking on Tom was enough to make the man come. 

 

Tom cried out as he came, back arching as his released coated his hand. Then the dancer fell back on the couch in pleasure, hand twitching where it was coated in his seed.

* * *

“Oh wow.” Bill breathed, studying the advertisement closer as he took in the handprints. 

 

Suddenly the image of Tom popped into the teen’s head and Bill gasped, slamming the magazine shut as he rolled away from it onto his back. The teen’s stomach was in flutters now as he tried to settle down, hand twitching as it longed to hold onto Tom’s.


	5. Chapter 5

When Tom woke up the next morning, his back was stiff from having fallen asleep on the couch and he’d still had not showered. The man frowned, lifting his shirt up to his nose to get an idea of just how badly he smelled, and retracted quickly at the pungent odor. 

 

“Definitely gotta shower.” Tom mumbled. 

 

The clock in the kitchen read that it almost eight. Practice started at nine. There would be no time for a shower before practice. Tom made a noise of annoyance and tumbled off the couch, sluggishly making his way over to the refrigerator. There wasn’t much food in the giant cold machine but just enough for Tom to have a reasonable breakfast before heading out for the day. He would have preferred to get a coffee at the Peruvian place but there wasn’t enough time for that. 

 

“What time did I fall asleep at?” Tom yawned aloud to no one. The man stared at the couch in confusion for a few brief moments before everything came rushing back to him. 

 

Tom had fallen after jerking off last night. He’d fallen asleep jerking off to thoughts of Bill. 

 

The dancer’s face burned and Tom slammed the refrigerator door closed, rubbing roughly at the side of his head while he thought this through. Bill was attractive; Tom knew the boy was attractive and thought him so as well, what he couldn’t allow was for that attraction to become anything more. 

 

“He’s just a kid, Trumper.” Tom groaned, “Get it together.”

 

What was so special about Bill anyways? Sure the boy had nice hair, a decent smile, and somewhat good body but that wasn’t any reason for Tom to go all crazy over the fellow dancer. It just didn’t make sense to Tom. There’s wasn’t one specific thing that Tom especially liked about Bill but rather that Tom liked _everything_ about Bill. From the way that the teen smiled to the way his hair trembled when he danced, Tom was a sucker for it all. The man groaned again and went in search of some clean clothes.

 

This obviously wasn’t something that could be turned off like a switch but that didn’t mean Tom couldn’t enjoy it a little right? There was no harm in thinking of Bill while Tom did it as long as he didn’t act on it. Yes, Tom decided, as long as he didn’t act on it, it was perfectly fine to use Bill’s image for wanking material. After all, it wasn’t like Bill would ever find out.

“Argh!” Tom exclaimed in frustration, “I just need to get laid is what it is.”

 

The clock in the kitchen now read fifteen minutes past eight and Tom hurried to the door. The dancer grabbed his coat, water bottle, duffle bag, and phone on his way out. Whilst out on the streets of Harlem, heading to catch a subway to the theater, Tom noticed that his phone was blinking with a new message.

 

The text was from Kaleb. Tom slid his finger to unlock the screen and read the message with a furred brow, blinking in shock as the news set in.

* * *

Bill gathered his hair up in a messy ponytail and sighed, linking his fingers and throwing his arms behind his back in order to stretch. After slugging back a coffee and half a bagel, plain without any cream cheese, Bill had made his way over to the studio.

 

Practices were a rare occurrence during a performance schedule but Jost had sent out an email at around midnight saying that it was urgent. Bill had rolled his eyes assuming that it was probably just another minor thing that David was freaking out over again, like he didn’t think someone was dancing with enough emotion or that someone was shaky on a their landings. That’s why Bill had arrived in gym clothes, expecting a workout of sorts. He’d taken the metro from his crammed apartment and scowled at the posters advertising The Nutcracker, which depicted Beth and Sebastian with the corps in the background, while on his way over. Bill had stuck his tongue out at the unflattering picture of him in the girl’s snowflake costume. It was embarrassing enough as it was to have to perform every night in front of crowds of people but for his face to be plastered all across New York City?

 

Bill threw open the double doors of the studio and waltzed inside, pointe shoes secured in a knot over his shoulders. What the teen was met with was the entire company gathered in the center around Jost, looks of shock evident on their faces. Amongst the group Bill spotted Tom and the older man’s face lit up. Jackie’s minions were at it again as they glared down the teen when he joined the group.

 

“Bill.” David said, looking overwhelmed. The man motioned for the dancer to stand besides him and Bill awkwardly scooted his way through the group.

 

“What’s going on?” Bill asked, eyes darting around at the faces that all seemed to be staring at him now.

 

“Bill…” David’s face pulled in discomfort. “Well you see… there’s been an accident.”

 

“Accident?” Bill jumped, “What kind of accident?”

 

“Not an accident.” Winona spoke up. The woman walked up and pointed a stern finger at the ballet director, “You’ll scare the boy half to death.”

 

“What accident?” Bill repeated, feeling lost and Winona turned to the teen with a serene smile.

 

“You said you wanted to move up, this is a good thing.”

 

“What accident?” Bill said again.

 

“It’s not an accident.” Winona snapped, suddenly very angry.

 

“It mind as well be an accident! And going into Winter Season on top of it all?” David threw his hands over his face and groaned.

 

“You’ll be set for the Winter Season, we already talked about this David.” Winona shook her head and wrapped her arms around her stomach. The older dancer was dressed in a flowing dress today that stopped just short of her knees. It wasn’t the most adequate outfit to dance in but Bill was not one to judge. 

 

“I’m still apprehensive about this though. He’s so young.” David looked to Bill in worry.

 

“I’m what?” Bill asked.

 

“He was sixteen when he started with the ABT. He has talent, you said it yourself David.” Winona sighed. The woman walked over the short man and cast an arm around his shoulder in support. “The company will be fine.”

 

“Will someone please tell what’s going on?” Bill stamped his foot on the floor and the room silenced. The teen his bit his lip before apologizing, “Sorry.”

 

“Bill,” The woman took Bill’s hands in hers, “I’m pregnant.”

 

“E-excuse me?” Bill retracted his hands and looked to David for confirmation.

 

“Everyone, as many of you already know, our Winona will be leaving us for the Winter, Spring, and the rest of the Fall Season. After dancing with us for the past six years, we are all very sad to see her go but this is a time of happiness for Winona.” David spoke and the company began to murmur amongst themselves again.

 

“I’ll be sure to come to shows and watch though.” Winona smiled.

 

“As such, we need a replacement for Winona’s part as the Snowflake Queen. After much discussing with the other dancers, Winona, and the higher ups… we have decided that it would be for Bill Kaulitz to assume this position.” 

 

“Seriously?” Bill’s jaw hit the floor, “Wait, seriously?”

 

“But he’s a boy!” One of females named Anya complained. 

 

“But we needed someone that Tom would be able to lift. Bill matches Tom best in height and form and experience. That coupled with the fact that he can go en pointe made Bill was the best candidate for the role.”

 

“Fine.” Anya crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

 

“Well then,” David looked around the room to where Bill was staring down at his feet in shock, “If that’s it then let’s get to work! We have a lot to practice before tomorrow night’s show.”

* * *

“Ready and lift!” David commanded. Tom’s hands secured around Bill’s waist as the boy shot upwards, arms out and legs outstretched in a split, before he was swiftly placed back down on the ground. 

 

The rest of company had been allowed to go home after working around Bill’s missing place in the snowflakes corps, and now the Snowflake King and Queen were the only ones left to practice. Both men were tired from practicing the same few dances over and over again and Bill felt bad for Tom. He could only imagine how annoyed Tom, someone that had been dancing those sets all season long, would feel having to wait around for a newbie like Bill to catch up. 

 

However they were in luck. Bill knew most of the roles in the Nutcracker like the back of his hand; after all, Bill himself had been the Snowflake King before. Dancing the part of the Queen was just like playing his role backwards in his head. Instead of lifting at this one part, Bill would now be the one being lifted. It was rather straining to go through his mind over and over again but the teen was steadily learning his role.

 

“Good, good.” David praised, taking a sip from his water bottle and Bill coughed. His throat was dry and he desperately wanted a drink of water but David was relentless. Winona’s pregnancy, let alone the very idea that one of the MB’s most reliable dancers would leave so suddenly, was unexpected and the reason for lack of an understudy. 

 

Bill flitted around the opposite side of the room, turning to face Tom with a look of seriousness on his face and the older dancer smiled weakly. They were almost through their last together in the ballet and both dancers were more than ready to call it quits. 

 

Despite Bill’s frustration with the repetition, his body flows through the music. The teen focuses on working his body so that it moves with the utmost ease and grace as his legs and arms make large full movements that lead into one another. The combination is meant to mimic the flitting, somewhat erratic, movements of a snowflake with a touch of feminity. Bill’s lanky form is easily able to perform the female movements due to his squared hip frame and lack of breasts. 

 

An ideal ballerina’s body is to mirror that of a fourteen-year-old prepubescent boy’s. Feminine curves and hips are not needed and not approved of in this sport. Bill had seen many girls from his dance classes as a youngling fall away as the years past and puberty onset. Bill was the only one from his original class to have a professional career as a dancer. However the teen worked hard for his body, surviving on small meals packed full in protein and a high balance of assorted pill supplements to keep his body healthy. Some girls in the company took to only eating one meal a day or small meals consisting of only baby food. Bill was glad that he never had to go to such extremes. 

 

“Nice Bill!” David praised as the teen set into a piqué, gliding across the floor as one leg set into a passé position and the other swept behind him. “Tom, ready yourself!”

 

Tom’s feet turned out in opposition directions, one extended forward with the other one back for balance, as he prepared to catch Bill in his arms. The teen was breathing heavily, beads of sweat rolling down the elegant curve of his neck and Tom’s eyes were glued to the sight. The man felt the slightest bit of stirring in his pants and he gasped silently. 

 

Bill spun round and round in a set of fouettés, feeling slightly awkward that he was no longer expected to do the male counterpart, and made twelve rotations. David had made the program slightly more difficult than when Winona had been dancing the part, as the man felt that Bill’s skill really needed to be showcased for audiences. The teen was no longer a lowly snowflake in the corps but rather the explosive Snowflake Queen.

 

“And now!” David called out. Bill completed his last turn, turned his head in the direction that the audience would be sitting, and ran at Tom. 

 

The boy crossed the floor in three powerful leaps and then fell into position besides Tom. The man grasped the teen around his center gravitational point once more and lifted the boy high in the air. Bill hung there for a moment, suspended with his leading arm straight out as if to direct him through the air, when he felt Tom’s hands tremble. 

 

“Tom!” Bill called out in sharp warning and Tom’s fingers dug mercilessly into the boy’s hipbones for further support. 

 

Finally Tom set the teen down and David clapped in applause. Bill simply brushed himself off and set Tom with a stern look.

 

“Don’t even think of dropping me tomorrow night.”

* * *

Showtime had come again once more. Children scampered around backstage as the technical crew messed with the lights and the stage crew prepared props. The female dancers powdered their faces, painted their lips, and pinned their hairs while the men stretched or applied their own makeup. 

 

Bill sat perched in front of a vanity in the men’s changing room, a female makeup artist flitting about him and smashing his face with white powder. Bill coughed as the residue rose in the air in plumes and a few other dancers in the company snickered. Everyone had already finished changing so there was no concern of scandalizing the poor makeup woman although Bill felt slightly awkward sitting his tutu. 

 

The outfit of the Snowflake Queen was low in the front, hugging his pectorals where breasts were meant to be pressed up against the stiff material. His tutu was absurdly large and fanned on either side of him, leaving his legs feeling exposed, but some skirts had been added to the outfit to help disguise that Bill was in fact male. While adding length, the skirts stopped mid-thigh on Bill to allow the audience to glimpse his ankles, feet, and leg positions. 

 

A tiara was fastened into Bill’s hair and the boy stared at his reflection with an inward shudder. Now, with the trickery of makeup and the cut of the outfit, Bill truly looked female. 

 

“You ready?” Kaleb clapped the teen on the shoulder and Bill nodded nervously. 

 

“Yeah. Your girl her tonight?” 

 

“She is but don’t go trying to change the subject. You’ve seen Winona dance this hundreds of times, Bill. You’ll be fine. Plus if you forget something or get nervous, Tom will be there for you.”

 

“You don’t think he’ll laugh?” Bill whispered as the makeup girl messed with Bill’s lipstick. At last her creation was complete and the woman exited the men’s changing room in a hurry but not before warning Bill to not mess up his face.

 

“Honestly I think everyone in the company is laughing right now.” Kaleb chuckled and a few other dancers laughed as well. “They listed you as ‘Belinda Kaulitz’ in the program since you’re the Snowflake Queen now.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Bill shrieked and the entire room was laughing once more.

 

“Just go and break a leg out there okay, kid?” Kaleb patted Bill’s sparkling tiara and set off towards the stage. “First act is about to start.”

* * *

Again Bill found himself in the wings as the first act commenced. The men of the company were dressed up in formal wear to play out the scene of the Christmas party as the women wore fanciful dresses. Natalie, dressed in her corps outfit, was still gossiping backstage and life was still moving on without Bill.

 

The teen could not help but feel like he was in a daze. For the longest time Bill had been vying after a leading spot after first arriving at the MB and it was strange to think that he would achieve through playing a female role. Still Bill would not let the thought rain on his parade and he smooth his costume out, mentally preparing himself. 

 

“Don’t be nervous.” A voice suddenly spoke in the dark haired boy’s ear.

 

“Tom!” Bill jumped with fright and the man gave the teen a cheeky smile.

 

“I know what you’re thinking and you’ll be fine. Just don’t think about it and let your body feel the music, okay?” Tom gave Bill’s shoulder a squeeze and the boy placed his hand over Tom’s.

 

“Thank you.” Bill blushed and suddenly Tom’s hand tightened.

 

“Y-yeah don’t mention it.” Tom replied breathlessly before his hand was pulling away. “I’ll see in two minutes.”

 

“Uh huh.” Bill watched as the male dancer made his way over to the opposite wing. From Bill’s spot he could see out onto the stage and see directly across into the other side stage wing. Tom waved to Bill in humorous greeting and Bill swatted a hand at him. 

 

“Well aren’t you two, two peas in a pod.” Natalie laughed as she lined up with the other corps girls. 

 

“Oh hush.” Bill rolled his eyes as the music changed.

 

“Good luck. Don’t get too lost in Tom’s eyes.” Natalie winked. Bill opened his mouth to protest but the corps was already rushing by him to take their place on stage.

 

The lights focused in on the group as Tom entered and Bill counted down to his cue. Finally the violins sounded and Bill entered, shoulders thrown back, head held high, feet perfectly pointed. 

 

The blinding lights were the boy’s greeting and the smell of rosin was his sign. The teen was finally where he belonged at center stage. 

 

Bill was at home.


End file.
